


Master of None

by VisceralComa



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Modern Character in Thedas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa
Summary: A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.





	1. 9:40 Dragon 11-27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:40 Dragon 11-27  
> Kirkwall, Free Marches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously titled "Consequences"

She prowled with deathlike precision. Steps silent as she glided in a circle. The Nightingale was true to the rumors.

I could not track her. The vent above let in bright and blinding daylight, making the rest of the interrogation chamber a dark indistinguishable shadow. She perched in the corner, the only sound being her feather light breath. My pointed ears attuned to the rise and fall of her chest after minutes of silence. They twitched when she swallowed, not with nervousness but out of necessity. I would not be the first one to break.

The door swung open, spilling more light into the room. The silhouette of a scout came in carrying a crate. They paused one moment; head turned toward the Sister. Whatever indication she gave prompted the scout to step forward and set the crate down onto the table I was chained to. They retreated after and once again the door shut.

Leliana stepped into the light, pinning me with a harsh impatient glare. She gave a deep breath and began to unload the crate. Bits of parchment tied together with twine, small tokens, necklaces, and knick knacks, bundles of hastily bound books, herbs, obscure gizmos, one actual book with its cover stained in blood with a knife attached to it. And of course a copy of the Tale of the Champion, which Leliana set aside from the rest as an afterthought.

The entirety of my possessions that weren’t currently on me could fit into a small crate. It was a sad thought, given how many possessions I used to have when-whereever in another life and another time. You couldn’t keep many things with a life on the run.

The Sister laid each item on the table with neat contained conviction and never once taking her gaze off me. She peered, calculating every reaction I made - or rather didn't.

I wanted to tell her that this method of interrogation wouldn’t work. I’d been grilled, questioned, and even tortured by many peoples and groups in the past; the House of Repose, the Band of Three, the Brotherhood, the Crows, House River and even by the Executors. The worst of yet being the Ben-Hassrath. This would be a cakewalk by comparison. I almost felt sorry for her. She would get nothing from me like this.

“Explain,” she commanded.

Aw, pity. She broke the silence. I had a bet on us sitting here for another five minutes. Welp, guess I owed myself five royals.

I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to but because there was nothing to explain about the items other than that they were mine. She wouldn’t be able to read them. The layers of itch would confuse her. Let alone the effort I took to conceal everything written. No linguist or cryptologist on Thedas could figure it out, not unless they happened to be a mage and from my world. As far as I knew only three others had the potential for that combination, one of which was in the city now but she was so far uninvolved with the destruction of Kirkwall. I would say she was more an observer, watching how it unfolded and documented every thread. An archivist, if you will. My people would have called her a scribe. People around here just call her the Editor.

“Is your silence an admission of guilt?” She asked, paging through the bundles of parchments that were my journals. She stopped at one page, finger tracing down it. Her eyes flicked across it left to right instead of up and down.

Shit.

That wasn’t normal. No language but Tevene wrote left to right like English did. How did the Nightingale know to do that?

“Guilt?” I asked in an attempt to draw her gaze, to stop her from reading. I wasn’t sure if she could, but I’d rather she didn’t. Even if it was at a guess. “What would **I** be guilty of?”

Leliana raised one brow, her lips gave the barest stretch of a smile before she put the book down and pulled a parchment from her hood. She unrolled it.

“What would you be guilty of?” Leliana parroted my question back. Her smile stretched as the parchment scroll dropped low in her hand, heavy with ink and its own weight. “Many things, as it turns out.”

“They haven’t convicted me of anything.” I smirked. 

She didn't react but when I said nothing else she proceeded to read out the list.

“Twelve charges of desertion, loitering, petty theft, larceny, four charges of assault, vandalism, arson-”

“Oh come on - really?” I exasperated instantly at those charges. Leliana quirked a brow. “I was a kid when I did those!” I explained. “Allegedly.” I added as soon as she looked up. Her squint could be misconstrued as a twitch. I knew better. 

“Battery, destruction of public property, three charges of-” She stopped only to correct herself. “Thirteen charges of pseudocide.”

She raised one brow waiting for an explanation. 

I wasn't going to give her anything, but I'd have fun with it. 

“I guess they'd rather it be faking my death than merely admit resurrection.” I shrugged. It was as much of an explanation as she'd get. She sensed I wouldn’t elaborate further and carried on.

“Conspiracy to commit kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit treason, smuggling, plagiarism, piracy, fraud, vigilantism.” She paused. “Known vigilante aliases, The Jack _rabbit_. Jackalope and the Elf on the shelf?”

I smirked with a snicker. “Eh, we all have nicknames. Aren't you known as Nightingale, afterall?” She stared at me not laughing. I wondered what it would take to get her to chuckle.

“Coercion, extortion, manslaughter, homicide-”

“Someone accidentally killed a guy they were hired to kill. Turned out the guy was innocent.” I tried. She ignored my explanation.

“Four charges of impersonating a man, adultery-”

“You know, funny thing. It is not adultery if you weren’t actually married. I should know, I _checked_.”

“Falsely accusations against a magister, grand larceny, defiling a Chantry altar, practicing blood mage, apostasy, suspicion of being a maleficar-”

“Might not want to let Seeker Cassandra see that last one.” I quipped but still nothing. Though her lips pressed tight.

“Harboring known criminals of the Imperium, petty treason, barratry, falsifying Imperial documents, tax evasion-”

“They should have evaded taxes before falsifying the documents. Rookie mistake.” I shook my head. 

“Prostitution without a license, failure to pay fines and fees, failure to pay child support-”

“Ugh. Seriously? Child Support?! How can they charge child support when there was no kid!”

“Riding a horse while intoxicated-”

“Funny story about that.”

“Desecration of corpses-”

“Aaaand you made it less funny.”

“Tampering with multiple crime scenes, contempt of court, defecating in public.”

“Now that's just plain blasphemy!” I gasped with offense.

“Oh?” Leliana questioned at my objection.

“They got those in the wrong order!”

She rolled her eyes and continued.

“Trespassing, destruction of private property, destruction of-” Leliana raised a brow. “Really?”

“Allegedly.”

“Destruction of one of the Hundred Pillars, dragonslaying-” 

“Stupid dragon destroying thousand year old ruins.”

“Dragonslaying without a permit or a license, poaching.”

“Not entirely unrelated, but one I’m sure they regret deeply."

“Conspiracy to incite riots, inciting a riot in no less than nine alienages - though you are suspected of causing five others.”

“They can’t pin those on me because purportedly I was committing other crimes publicly while those were happening.”

“Impersonating a Chantry official, impersonating a First Enchanter, impersonating a Magistrate, impersonating a magister. Do you just impersonate people as a hobby?”

“You should note, each of those are the exact same man. Yeah who even needs that many titles? Either way, but they just had to split up the charges didn’t they?”

“Slavery -”

“Oh that’s rich. **S** **lavery.** When their whole bloody economy is based on it.”

“Kidnapping and impersonating the Black Divine.” Leliana lowered the parchment. “I’ve heard the stories and I must admit that one was impressive. You managed to convince the Magisterium for three months.”

“Eh, Sounds like someone was going for a record.” I shrugged. She sighed and continued. 

“Espionage, treason-”

“All while pretending to be the Black Divine, too.”

“Public indecency and urinating in public.”

“Yeah, same thing.”

Leliana’s lips pressed tight as she folded the parchment and slid it back into her hood. Did she have pockets sewn into it?

“That’s it? Huh, thought it would be longer.” I quipped. They did make up some of those charges. I didn’t even think they’d get me with adultery. I thought it was the married spouse that was charged, not the mistress. “Not the first time I’ve said that.” I grinned.

Once again we lapsed into silence. She picked up the book and began to read.

“What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” I twiddled my thumbs. That was a line no one around here used because it didn’t exist. They had never heard of it. “Or a trial by jury. Am I under arrest? You can’t keep me here. This is false imprisonment!”

She said nothing and flipped another page.

“You know, I couldn’t help but notice. Those were all crimes committed in the Imperium.” Her gaze flitted over the words. Pausing at some, and speeding past another. This was making me nervous. I had a lot of information there. “That’s outside of your jurisdiction, Nightingale. I have committed no crime in any kingdom under the Andrastian Chantry’s influence. I have broken none of the chantry’s laws or the laws of this city.” I spoke, doctoring my voice to remain even.

“The Imperium would pay a hundred strands to have you brought in.” She informed me.

I whistled. “My, that is high. Last I heard it was five hundred crowns.” My words dripped with sarcasm. Once I left the Imperium borders, I knew when and how much they began asking as my bounty. Slavers, merchants, even mercenaries had tried to kill me. Though a hundred strands was a fortune that wouldn't be paid out physically. That'd bankrupt several Merchant Guild banks and then some. Still, it was enough for any ambitious new merchant to make it big in any city he or she wished. Enough to buy out every noble estate in Hightown, Ostwick and Tantervale combined.

“Alive.”

That shut me up.

“I took the liberty of contacting the Magisterium to find out the specifics of your bounty. A hundred strands would be a significant investment for the Inquisition. Our Ambassador would be able to stretch that. She could fund not just our army but Ferelden’s as well.”

She watched me. I admit I was bristling. She had me captured, and whether I could escape wasn't an issue. It would take time. Time, I'm sure, I didn't have. The city was already burning. Me escaping would only cause more panic, more destruction. Plus, Leliana wouldn't be telling me this if she didn't already have the bastard Magister who wanted me alive nearby, or at least his retainer - or wanted something she knew I would bargain with.

But I wouldn’t go back. I left the Imperium for a reason. My efforts to help the elves there had been flawed and disastrous, though I hear the protests continue. Their spirits hadn't died.

“It's quite the bounty. Matched by no one. Not even any of the Felicisima Armada.”

“Yes I know.” I snapped with a growl.

She smiled.

I took a breath. “What do you want?”

“Tell me your story.” Leliana wasn’t smug but there was a satisfaction in her as she tucked her hands behind her back. The Inquisition’s heraldry displayed proudly. “Tell me the truth. Tell me every detail.” Leliana slipped back into the shadows, her voice carrying out.

“Where should I start?” I stared at the table tense.

“From the beginning.”

I was afraid she’d ask for that. 

“Well?

“I woke up.”

“Where?”

She didn't say anything and I didn't not at first. I braced myself to relive everything. To experience it all again. 

“In a nightmare.”


	2. 9:19 Dragon 4-08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:19 Dragon 4-08  
> Teraevyn, Tevinter Imperium  
> Celestial Movement (CM): Dreamers’ Gathering

One moment I was clasping a relic and the next I was staring into my reflection in muddy red water. I’ll spare you the details of the monstrosity that was my appearance, but upon seeing it was indeed a reflection, I screamed.

It was not a wholly unfamiliar face, but rather one I had never been acquainted with before, Yet it was reminiscent of someone. Someone I remember seeing in passing when I was much younger. It was the reflection of a child who could be a dead ringer for my own. A face I hadn’t seen as a reflection in a mirror but in dirty gutter water or shop windows. That was why I knew the face existed, and why it was my own.

Seeing it was similar to walking the aged and cracked streets of the home city of my youth. I had been familiar with them in a way I wish no one to be. To know from experience where to take cover from the rain and snow; to know which shelters would be open until late; to know which bakeries and restaurants did not chase you away when you went diving into their trash. It was a familiarity you didn’t want, that I had the misfortune to have an expertise.

Nonetheless instead of the burgeoning with wrinkles face I knew, I was met with my face from just under three decades ago. I was a child. At a guess I was seven or eight years old in body. But in spirit I was three decades and a half old.

My scream was high pitched and when it came back on me, I jerked away from the puddle of crimson water into a slippery slush of an unpaved clearing. The cold harsh water splashed on my tiny naked body, drenching me. Some must have splashed in my mouth because it tasted of tangy copper. I scrambled to stand, limbs flailing and unfamiliar like I was going through puberty again. At the thought I groaned. Would I go through that hellscape again?

The sky twinkled with foreign stars and galaxy swirls with a large circular darkness hanging heavy behind clouds. A black void of sky with nothing there. It left the world around me bathed in shadows. The immediate area was nigh impossible to see were it not for the iridescent blue torches that flickered. There were nine of them, one for each of nine robed figures.

The figures were silent as I scrambled away. The scent of copper stronger the more I flailed.

My vision adjusted and the muddy water I sat in came in clear, so too did the dozens of bodies that lay around. Young, old, women, men. They were dainty and frail looking. Many of them wore long robes and others were plainly dressed, but all them had their throats slit and large pointed ears.

I was sitting in their blood, splashing and flailing in it. Whatever I had in my stomach came bubbling up, it was blue and vibrant. I couldn't recall what it was I ate but the glowing blue substance was not it. It burned like an electric shock at my senses and mingled with the blood.

“Oh god.” I rasped and attempted to get away from the bodies. There was only one pathway clear of them. I scrambled that way but it became blocked as cloaked and hooded figures stepped up. I could just make out their shape.

One of the figures stepped forward, presumably the leader.

“Jrypbzr Naqbeny'f Obba. Tbq bs Fynirf, Tbq bs Punvaf. Jung unir lbh orfgbjrq hcba hf?” They stopped upon seeing me. He drew his hood back revealing a pale faced elder scowling in anger. For an older man he hefted me up with ease, his fingers digging into my arms as he dragged me to my feet.

I would always remember his face. Bright green eyes, pale complexion with wrinkles that sat on his high cheekbones. The manicured grey beard and mustache accentuated the sharp cut edges of his features.

“Na Rys?” He growled, yanking my hair up and away.

I tried to fight him, my limbs scrambling but I was smaller, weaker, and scared. The other figures converged around me.

“N fynir sebz gur Tbq bs Fynirf?” He gave a cruel smile, the others drawing their hoods back. They surrounded us slowly as he held me still.

“Who are you? Where am I?” I tried to ask. But my voice and words confused them as the leader watched me.

“Gur obba funyy rknyg hf gb gur urniraf.” He spoke with a whisper and finally let me go. There was nowhere to go and I stood among these men, naked and bare. But it had long been since I felt modest about my body, but looking down seeing it’s youth and childlike quality, I felt unsure.

“Gur obba funyy rknyg hf gb gur urniraf.” The leader’s voice boomed around us and the others chanted it back slowly until it became a hum.

“Gur obba funyy rknyg hf gb gur urniraf.” The leader repeated as he pulled a dagger from his robes. “Gur oybbq bs gur obba orfgbjf rgreany cbjre.” The figures gripped my arms and the dagger came down against my outstretched arm. Blood cascaded down. Only it wasn’t like I recalled. It was red, yes, but it glittered and made the air heady. One of figures lunged for it but was held back by the other. The leader was the first to lean down and he drank from the cut.

“Stop it.” I tried but my teeth chattered.

Crimson stained his jaw and beard as he stood, the same red flamed in his eyes as he gazed down and his smile grew sharper, teeth pointed. He gave a laugh and his arms raised above him. I could only watch as white hot flames filled the air.

“LRF!” He cried with jubilant glory and then looked down. “Qevax. Qevax! QEVAX!” He urged his fellows. Knives and daggers pulled out and they too cut and drank from me. I was helpless as they kept me still.

Mouths sucked, teeth bit to get more blood flowing. Some didn’t bother to hide their obscene thoughts and where they cut to allow them obscene pleasures on such a young body.

I sobbed but as the blood was drawn from me, I cared less. I begged for blood loss to take me and end this nightmare.

I wasn’t so lucky.

“Rabhtu. Yrg ure erfg!” The leader growled and drew me from the group, shielding me in his cloak. His hand raked through my hair. I woozed and couldn’t stand, my body slumped and fell but the leader caught me, carrying me. Laying me down on a stone dais.

“Kill me.” I requested. It was denied. I couldn’t move, couldn’t escape with him there and with how weak I was.

There were bursts of the same white fire in the air in swirls and shapes, firey dragons filled the air with roars, sounds of celebration. All the while the leader of the group sat beside me, pleased and stroking my hair in some sick way to comfort me. I was nauseous as his vile hand ran along my arm and down my body. My hand pushed at him but he chuckled. His hand glowed and I flinched as he ran them down each slice in my flesh. The light revealing the skin stitching itself back up.

“Lbh ner cerpvbhf, yvggyr enoovg.” He whispered as his fingers strayed. It disgusted me. He ignored the other figures who were busy in their revelry. He produced the knife again and leered down at me.

My heart pounded painfully as the knife descended. He slid it to carve a thin sliver of flesh off my arm. I cringed as he held it up to his mouth.

“Gur syrfu bs gur obba tenagf hf rgreany lbhgu.” Came his near silent chant as he dropped it in his mouth.

Bile rose in my mouth as I turned onto my side and heaved. There was nothing left to come out.

A choked gasp and gurgling sounded from where the leader of this cannibalistic cult sat. I turned and watched as he screamed and fell down to the floor in agony. His body glowed white with strings of red until he stood. He turned to me with shock.

The others had stilled themselves and drew closer but froze as they watched the wrinkles of their leader melt away. Skin filled and stretched with life and water. Youth returned to him as he stood taller and prouder. He looked at the other eight.

“Gur syrfu bs gur obba tenagf hf rgreany lbhgu.” He said in awe. “Gur syrfu bs gur obba tenagf hf rgreany lbhgu!” He shouted and it caused the others to rush to the dais. Their own daggers produced, and others didn’t bother as teeth sunk, hands strayed. I shrieked, shaking and trying to fight them but with each bite and more blood drawn I was unable to move. Their weight on me as they were frantic to eat and violate me.

“No… please!” I sobbed. Angry desperate tears shed. Chittering creaks and the weight of dead.

I saw white. 

 

* * *

 

I lapsed into silence. I remembered that day. The first and worst day of my existence on Thedas. It was seared into my brain. Every intricate detail etched into my brain cells, making it so I would never forget. Each of those faces, I would remember until the day I entered eternal sleep.

“And then what happened?” Leliana roused me from my silence.

I stared at her, lost for a moment. She ventured from her place in the shadows to press me to continue.

“I woke up.”

“Again?”

“I must have passed out. All I know is I woke up…some days later in chains in the possession of some slavers on a carriage. I was headed to Minrathous.” I explained.

“You’ve left something out.” Leliana frowned.

“I didn’t.”

“What happened after the ritual?” Leliana asked. “What happened after they cut into you?”

“I don’t know.”

She glared but said nothing.

“I told you what I remembered.” I sighed and rested my head down. Remembering that first day was tiresome.

“What were they saying?” Leliana asked after a moment.

“I don’t know.” I muttered.

“You don’t know?”

“My grasp of the Tevene language didn’t come until much later. I couldn’t tell you what they said because I couldn’t even repeat it when I learned Tevene.” I explained.

“Very well.” Leliana went back to stalking. It was quiet save for her footsteps. I watched as she tilted her head. “If I am to take your account seriously. You were summoned?”

“Yes.”

“By Magisters of the Imperium.”

“Right.”

It was quiet again. “So you are a demon?”

“If I’m a demon then you must be a ghost.” I joked. I half expected her to scoff but she stilled. 

“There are no such things as ghosts.” Her lips pressed tight.

“Oh I don’t know. I heard there was one in the White Spire.”

That seemed to catch her attention.

“If you aren’t a demon. Then what are you that they had to summon you?”

“Look. I don’t know. I just know they had to summon me from whence I came.”

“And where did you come from?”

“The bad side of Harlem.”

“Harlem?” Leliana’s Orlesian accent made the word sound far fancier than my hood rat slur.

“I could tell you exactly where I come from, and you wouldn’t know it. It doesn’t exist here. But it’s the memories I have.” I shrugged. She didn’t take it kindly but I could see she took note of the name. She’d never find it.

“Very well. What happened next?”

“I told you already. I was carted off to Minrathous.”

“I want to know what really happened.”

She stared across at me.

“If what you say is true, then your blood gives power and your flesh grants youth.”

“Yup.” I popped the word and sat back as much as I could with the chains.

“How is that possible? Surely those magisters-”

“Those magisters are dead.”

“Did you kill them?”

“No. A dragon did.” I smirked and gave a cheeky smile.

Leliana stared at me with an unblinking expression.

“A dragon? You expect me-”

“I don’t expect anything from you. Spymaster. I’m telling you. A dragon killed those magisters.”

“How did you come across that information?”

“There was gossip about some magisters found to be maleficar not far from Teraevyn. They’d been slain by something large. With fire. There was a witness who says it was a dragon that breathed white fire and had a slick black scaled body.”

“Are you speaking of Magister Erimond?”

“Not Livius. His father, Sabinus.” I shrugged. But she wanted further explanation. “He’s the one that found me almost bled out and sold me into slavery. That was before he found the bodies and the damage. By the time the Imperium’s poor excuse for Templars looked into it, I was already halfway to Minrathous and couldn’t give my uh...testimony.” I shrugged. “Not that they’d take a slave’s word over a Magister’s, much less an elven slave’s word.”

The door to the cell opened and Leliana stepped out of the light to greet the figure. It wasn’t the small figure of a scout but a tall woman with armor and a sword at her waist.

“If you are finished, Leliana.” The Nevarran accent wasn’t surprising. I’d heard it when they came for us. By us, I mean Varric and I. Only at the time I thought Cassandra was only after Varric. Didn’t think I’d be drawn into it, not until Leliana prevented my escape with a well placed arrow. I hadn’t even heard her draw the string.

“We leave for Haven.”

Haven?

“Does this mean you’re going to let me go?”

“No. I have more questions.”

“Wait. I thought if I told you where it started.”

“But that wasn’t really where it began. That is where you began. What I wanted to know was your story. All of it. You are keeping things from me.” Leliana explained as scouts came in, packing up my meager possessions back into the crate. “You will be coming with us.”

I growled.

“Do not fret. You will have company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, Rot-13 to translate what the magisters said.


End file.
